When La Qianqiu was wiping sweat in the back kitchen of the hot pot restaurant, the lyrics on the wall were turning yellow from the oil smoke. A Chaoshan man with a debt of more than 400,000 yuan put his name on the line for the last time: it was so hot that he cried, but he had to fight his way out.
He was once an e-commerce dark horse who made millions from scrap plastics, and he was also a gambler whose futures market fell to zero overnight. After the epidemic, he tried writing online articles and making AI music, but he broke his head against the iron wall of reality. The night the child fell ill, his wife silently took out the dowry, and he hid in the stairwell biting his fist and crying. His tears dripped on the screen of his mobile phone, illuminating the three words "Spicy Qianqiu".
Destiny always likes to play tricks, and he began to learn to rebel. Starting from the bottom of the pot on his dining table, he turned failure into hot sauce and made despair into a signature. The song he wrote was played repeatedly in the hot pot restaurant. "Debt's End" is no longer a mournful cry, but a war drum for counterattackers. He dared to eat three animals and beat a nail ball. He lived a 48-hour life in 20 hours.
If success had a flavor, it would be the fiery red of sweat and chili. When he stood on the cusp of the storm, looking back at the ups and downs along the way, he couldn't help but wonder: When times push you to the bottom, how should humans choose? Is it sinking, or is it setting yourself on fire?
